


a good look

by kathkin



Series: witcher prompt fills [7]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: “Look at me, I’m Geralt of Rivia, I have a broken arm, I’m positivelydousedin monster blood, and I smell like a beast from the depths of hell took a shit on me– is that what happened? Did itshiton you?”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: witcher prompt fills [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093319
Comments: 15
Kudos: 358





	a good look

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [thedaywasnew](http://thedaywasnew.tumblr.com/) for the following prompts from [this two part drabble challenge](https://penny-anna.tumblr.com/post/639250814299521024/two-part-drabble-game):
> 
> _28 - Love confession_
> 
> _6 - “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate.”_

“ _Ugh_ ,” said Jaskier. “Ew. _Eurgggh_.” Pausing in his work, he adjusted his slippery grip on the knife and looked Geralt in the eye. “You smell hideous, you know that?”

“Be nice to me,” said Geralt. “I’m injured.”

“Ohhh yes,” said Jaskier, sliding the knife back under the wet seam of Geralt’s shirt. “ _Look at me, I’m Geralt of Rivia, I have a broken arm, I’m positively **doused** in monster blood, and I smell like a beast from the depths of hell took a shit on me_ – is that what happened? Did it _shit_ on you?”

“No,” Geralt said.

“ _Come here and cut my shirt off me, Jaskier, for although I can kill whatever monster I please with my bare hands I cannot_ – ugh – _undress myself_.” The seam gave. Grimacing, Jaskier leaned in closer and began to cut the sleeve away at the shoulder. “ _It’s not like you have anything better to do than play nursemaid, Jaskier_.”

“You don’t.”

“Fuck off,” said Jaskier. “None of your business.” He tilted his head, trying to make out the seam in the low light of the room. “Gods, you’re lucky I love you so much.”

Something inside Geralt went still. For a moment the pain in his arm barely registered. Then, wincing as he turned his head, he looked up at Jaskier.

“What’s that look for?” said Jaskier, slicing down the front of his shirt.

“You love me?”

“Oh, don’t get excited!” Jaskier threw up his hands, still clutching the filthy knife. “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate. Can you get the rest of by yourself?”

Geralt took the knife back. “I’ll manage.”

“Wonderful.” Jaskier wandered away to the basin. “Oh, I’m filthy – filthy. No, I won’t like you again until everyone in this room is completely – monster blood free.” He dunked his hands in the basin. A moment later he raised them, still darkly bloodied, and shot Geralt an incredulous look. “It won’t come off.”

“It’s viscous stuff,” said Geralt. “Scrub harder.”

“I’m going to be marked for all time.” Jaskier thrust his hands back into the darkening water.

“It won’t do you any harm,” Geralt said. “Just don’t get it in your mouth.”

Jaskier splashed him. “I hate you. Why are you laughing?”

“You said you loved me.”

“I take it back,” said Jaskier. “I revile you. You’re repulsive. I fear this shirt will never be the same.”

Geralt looked at his own shirt, hanging in tatters around him. “ _Your_ shirt will never be the same?”

“Oh, yours was bedecked with monster-related stains already,” said Jaskier, flapping a mostly-clean hand in his direction. “Cutting that thing up was tantamount to putting it out of its misery – _this_ was a very nice shirt, until an hour ago. Now look at me! I’m a mess.”

He was blood-streaked, his hair damp with sweat, his sleeves rolled up, practically vibrating with a fury that Geralt suspected was masking a genuine concern. Privately, Geralt thought it was a good look on him. “You look fine.”

“I hate you so much,” said Jaskier. “Do you need me to splint that?”

“Would be good.”

“ _Honestly_ ,” Jaskier said, pottering back over. “Whatever do you do if you break your bones and I’m not around?”

Geralt said, “I manage.”


End file.
